


Only Words

by lepetitfromage



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Brothers, Coma, Denial, Deutsch | German, Fluff, Heart-to-Hearts, Italiano | Italian, Languages, M/M, itsy bitsy angst, super fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-05
Updated: 2015-03-27
Packaged: 2018-03-10 14:29:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 16,182
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3293816
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lepetitfromage/pseuds/lepetitfromage
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Feliciano has woken from a coma unable to speak or understand Italian - but he's speaking near fluent German. His is a rare case, and Lovino hunts down anyone in the hospital who can speak German. Enter Ludwig. While he recovers his Italian with the help of his brother and this interesting stranger, he'll sort out Lovino's guilt and his fateful attraction to Ludwig.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Feliciano Vargas had never been in a coma before. Despite how normal the statement was – after all, not too many people ever went into comas – he never thought he'd attest to the contrary.

It was the oddest feeling. Rather, it was the oddest sounds that permeated his lost consciousness. He couldn't feel a thing, physically, and he couldn't even move. But he could hear garbled, muffled noise – like he was listening to a conversation from ten feet underwater. They were voices, he was sure, because at certain times, when his consciousness was alert enough to pick up the noise, he heard his name.

…  _Feliciano_ …

…  _Feli_ …

This happened off and on for a while. He really wasn't sure about the time. It all seemed timeless, yet coincidentally drawn-out.

He heard his name sandwiched between more muddled noise, and then his mind slipped away from him again.

.

Feliciano opened his eyes, squinting and blinking violently in the face of bright daylight. His body felt heavy, so weary, he could barely turn his head. He lay back and looked around the ceiling.

Bright white, nothing else. He tuned his ears to the sounds around him. Again, he didn't hear much; perhaps there was the sound of footsteps, but those seemed far away.

He needed to look around.

Feliciano used all his strength to lift his head slightly from the pillow he was laid on. He noticed two things right away. He seemed to be in a hospital, as he was dressed in a pale, hospital blue gown with a hospital grey blanket over his body and a hospital bed underneath him. The second: his big brother, Lovino, was asleep at his bedside.

Lovino was holding onto his hand, his head lay on his folded arm across the bed. Feliciano smiled.

He put his energy into squeezing Lovino's hand, tightening his fingers around his palm.

Lovino must have been sleeping lightly because he raised his head, blinking slowly.

"Feliciano?" he said.

Feliciano smiled and squeezed his hand again. Lovino's eyes widened, his other hand coming to grasp his hand as well.

And then Lovino opened his mouth and gibberish poured out.

Feliciano's smile dropped and his mind prickled with anxiety. Lovino was talking to him, he was surely asking him questions. He couldn't understand anything he was saying. Except for his name.

"Feliciano?" Lovino asked, concerned. "Feli?"

He couldn't help it, couldn't stop it. Tears brimmed at the edges of his eyes and spilled over his cheeks.

"Lovino," he said, not sure he trusted what he was about to say next.

Lovino said his name again, and some mixture of words that sounded like he was prompting Feliciano to speak.

"Lovi, are you okay?" he began, voice a little hoarse from disuse. Lovino's jaw dropped open in shock. He was silent. It was all starting to scare him more. "Lovino, what's wrong?"

Lovino didn't cry, he didn't move.

"Lovi–"

His brother scrambled out of his chair, saying something indistinguishable and holding his hand up as if to tell Feliciano to stay where he was. Where else could he go?

Feliciano watched in wide-eyed panic as Lovino ran out of the room. He was alone, he couldn't remember what happened to put him in the hospital. And he and Lovino apparently couldn't understand each other.

His breaths started to come shallower and shallower, tears steadily streaming. He pressed the heels of his hands to his eyes, trying to control at least one thing.

Lovino returned only a minute later, a nurse in tow. He took to his chair again and grabbed Feliciano's hand while he and the nurse spoke to each other in words he couldn't understand.

The nurse touched his other hand and Feliciano looked to her with teary eyes. She looked calm, if a little confused. She moved her hand in front of her mouth as if telling Feliciano to speak.

Feliciano swallowed and said, "I don't understand. What's going on?"

It was the nurse's turn to look stunned. She quickly composed herself though and stuttered out, " _Sprechen Sie Italien?_ "

Feliciano paused. Her grammar wasn't quite right, but he understood well enough.  _Did he speak Italian?_

He didn't know. He supposed so… was that what she and Lovino were speaking? He opened his mouth to attempt Italian, but his mind drew a blank.

He felt his hands begin to tremble. After another minute trying to remember any Italian, he tearfully shook his head.

The nurse looked back and forth between him and Lovino. She said something to Lovino and then spoke to Feliciano. "Um…  _Sie_ ," she said, pointing to him. " _sprechen… Deutsch_."

Her sentence was terribly mangled, but Feliciano pieced it together.  _You speak German._

_You are speaking German._

He gaped. Was that why Lovino couldn't understand him?

The nurse situated the bed table in front of him and pulled a pen and piece of paper from her clipboard. She placed them in front of him, indicating for him to write.

Slowly, Feliciano wrote what was first on his mind.  _Why can't I understand you? Why am I speaking German? Should I be speaking Italian?_

The nurse looked over his note, but shrugged her shoulders, saying something to Lovino.

Lovino looked on the verge of tears. Feliciano knew his brother and knew that Lovino was on the edge. He whipped his phone out of his pocket and typed something, then showed it to him.

He'd pulled up a translator and where it read  _Italian – German_ : "Don't cry. I'm going to go find someone in this hospital who can speak German. We'll figure this out."

Feliciano wiped at his eyes, nodding. Lovino rose from his chair and stalked purposefully out of the room.

While Lovino did this, the nurse had been checking his vitals and recording the machines' readings on her clipboard. Feliciano was trying to compose himself, for Lovino, but hiccupped whimpers bubbled out of him. The nurse leaned against his bed and took his hand, squeezing it. She was a kind-looking woman, middle-aged, with a gentle grasp. Feliciano leaned his face into her side and cried quietly while she silently stroked his hair.

Ten minutes had passed before Feliciano heard a commotion outside his room. He quickly sat up, wiping his eyes once more, eagerly awaiting Lovino, hoping he'd found somebody.

Lovino did enter, returning straight away to his side, and he watched as a man entered behind him.

The man was nearly as large as the doorframe; wide shoulders, tall, seemingly well-muscled. He looked a little hesitant, a little severe, and Feliciano clamped down on his nerves. This man was his only hope at the moment.

He was blond, blue-eyed, and extremely clean-cut. He spoke briefly with Lovino, then the big man turned to him.

"Your name is Feliciano?" he asked slowly.

Relief flooded him in an instant and Feliciano quickly replied. "Yes. Do you know why I can't speak Italian?"

The man's brow furrowed and he said, "No, I'm sorry, I'm not a doctor." He coughed. "My name is Ludwig. Ludwig Beilschmidt."

Feliciano lowered his eyes in embarrassment. Of course this man didn't know what had happened to him.

Ludwig spoke some more with the nurse and Lovino. The nurse offered him a chair and Ludwig sat next to Feliciano.

"Feliciano?" he began.

"Yes?"

"The nurse is going to get the doctor on staff. We're going to ask you some questions. To figure out why you can speak German, but not Italian. Italian is your native language, right?"

He swallowed. "I think so. If it's Lovino's it should be mine, I suppose."

Ludwig asked Lovino something, but their conversation was taking a long time, and Feliciano was panicking again.

He grabbed Ludwig's hand, not thinking, and said, "Please, Ludwig, talk with me. I don't know what's happening and it's scaring me."

Feliciano could recognize pity, and he saw it there in this man's eyes. He didn't really care though, given the situation they were in. Ludwig said something short to his brother and then turned to him.

"How did Lovino find you?" he asked Ludwig.

"I brought my brother here. He was… bitten by a stray dog and bleeding pretty badly. Your brother caught us as we were walking out."

If Feliciano could just distract himself away from his situation… "Oh! That's horrible. But wait, you were leaving? Is your brother still waiting?"

"It's okay. I told him to go without me. I live close by."

Just then, the nurse returned with a doctor behind her. Feliciano and Ludwig paused their conversation so Ludwig could speak with the others. With the foreign sounds bashing his ears again, Feliciano wrung his hands in his lap. He looked to his brother and his heart saddened. Lovino was watching Feliciano with such dejection in his eyes, and was that also guilt? What did Lovino have to be guilty for?

"Feliciano?" Ludwig said.

He looked to him and the doctor.

"The doctor wants to ask you questions, to determine how much you can recall, and see what could be the problem."

Feliciano bit his lip and nodded.

Ludwig took a deep breath, leaning forward, elbows on his knees. "Do you know where you are?"

He was a little surprised that the answer didn't come immediately. He thought about it. What were he and Lovino doing prior to coming to the hospital? Where were they? From the limited view out his window, he could see tall buildings.

"Um… the city."

"Which city?"

Feliciano was starting to worry that he'd forgotten, but like an answered prayer in the final hour, it came to him. "Rome."

Ludwig nodded. "Where do you live?"

"Here, Rome." Everything Feliciano answered was fact-checked by Lovino.

"What about your parents?"

Nothing could make him forget that. "They died a long time ago. Lovino and I were raised by Grandpa."

"How old are you?"

"Twenty-three."

"How old is Lovino?"

"Twenty-five."

Feliciano answered a slew of obligatory questions. What year was it? Who was the president? What is your birthdate?

And then: "What happened to put you in the hospital? What do you last remember?"

He was sure it was something serious, but Feliciano was drawing a blank. He didn't know. "I don't remember," he replied meekly. His eyes brightened on a sudden memory. "I was with Lovino though, but I don't remember what we were doing."

He glanced at his brother for confirmation, but all he saw was pain in Lovino's eyes.

"Feliciano?"

"Yes?" he turned back to Ludwig.

"Have you learned German before?"

Feliciano opened his mouth, but closed it, unsure. Lovino said something and Ludwig translated. "Lovino says you took some classes in high school."

 _Yes, he did_. "Oh, I did. But… I don't think I was any close to fluency as I seem to be now… We've also been to Germany a couple times… Does that matter?"

Ludwig consulted with the doctor and he said, "Yes, it does. Feliciano, I'm going to tell you about the accident you were in, and how it might have affected you."

Feliciano felt anxiety stir in his stomach.

"You and Lovino were driving out of Rome, to visit your grandfather. A driver crashed into you and the car flipped. Lovino was driving, you were in the passenger seat. Due to the impact, you sustained a severe head injury. You've been in a coma for a week. The doctor won't know until she can do some scans, but she thinks that you've sustained damage to the areas of your brain that process and make sense of language. It's rare for a primary language to be lost but she guesses that your Italian has been inhibited, and so your brain is falling back on your second language, German."

"But…" he said, slowly processing everything. "My German was never this good."

More consulting with the doctor, then, "Because your brain doesn't have to juggle two languages, it's opened itself to all the knowledge of German you have, but has been tucked away since you learned it. It seems immediate improvement in the second language is not uncommon in situations like yours."

Feliciano felt better, knowing there was a scientific explanation for this. "Will I ever remember Italian again?"

"It's very possible for your brain to recover. Can you understand any Italian right now?"

He shook his head. "I can't understand or speak it."

The doctor and nurse conferred with each other and then it seemed they had finished with questions for the time being.

"They're going to order you some brain scans," Ludwig told him. "Since your Italian can come back at any time, they suggest you help it along by trying to read and speak."

Feliciano felt like he was in school all over again, assigned a language he had little knowledge of. But he nodded, telling himself that he needed to do this. Especially for Lovino's sake, because when he looked to his brother, his heart broke.

The doctor and nurse had left, and Lovino had propped his feet on his chair, hugging his legs, his forehead pressed to his knees.

"Ludwig?" Feliciano asked him quietly.

"Yes?"

"Can you tell me – remind me how to say 'brother'?"

Ludwig's blue eyes flit from Lovino's unmoving form to Feliciano. He didn't know whether to call them pitying or sympathetic. Ludwig's statements had been very concise, and his orderliness was evident in other aspects of his person, such as the way he held himself, the extremely neat way in which he was dressed and groomed, and he seemed to have a tight control over his emotions. But Feliciano could read his eyes, and they, at least, gave him hope.

" _Fratello_."

He repeated it in his head, wanting to get this one simple word right. "Lovino,  _fratello_ ," he said gently. Lovino picked his head up from his knees, looking sadly at him.  _Please let Lovino understand this_. "I love you."

Lovino's jaw clenched and his eyes shone. He was trying to hold back tears. Lovino never liked to cry in front of people, not even Feliciano.

He was beginning to think that Lovino hadn't understood him at all, but then he nodded and replied, in a whispery voice attempting to hold back a sob, what Feliciano heard to be, " _Ti amo._ "

He hoped it meant what he thought it meant. In addition to being emotionally reserved, Lovino was never outwardly affectionate. Feliciano thought it amusing that they were so opposite in these two traits, despite being confused for twins most of their lives. Feliciano was only sad he couldn't hear it in a language he understood.

Lovino picked himself up out of his chair and mumbled something. Then he left the room.

Feliciano glanced anxiously at the door.

"He said he's going to find you some magazines. To practice."

In truth, Feliciano had briefly forgotten Ludwig's presence, the man was so silent. He also looked torn between staying to help Feliciano and making an excuse to leave. Feliciano could see it in those eyes that were the only way into his thoughts.

"Feliciano. While your brother is gone, I feel the need to let you know something."

"Yes?"

"When Lovino was explaining the accident…" he paused, searching for the words. "Lovino is convinced that the accident was his fault. That you going into a coma was ultimately his fault. Believe what you will, Feliciano, but from what he and the doctor had said, it seemed like a freak accident."

Now Feliciano had an explanation to go with Lovino's uncharacteristic sadness. "I was never going to blame him, Ludwig."

"Well," he said, smoothing his hands over his knees. "I thought you should know."

"Thank you," he replied, smiling.

Ludwig watched him a moment longer, then coughed. "I'm, ah, glad I could assist today."

He made to get up and Feliciano's anxiety spiked. He lurched forward and grabbed Ludwig's arm. "I'm sorry! I mean, thank you very much, Ludwig, I don't know what I would have done without you, but please." Lovino wasn't back yet, and the thought of being alone, unable to speak to Lovino or anyone, really, brought back the fear. "Can you stay just a little longer? Just– just for the rest of today!"

Ludwig sighed. Feliciano just wanted him to stay a couple more hours, at least. In all honesty, he didn't think Ludwig would easily agree but it was a shot he was desperate to take.

To his surprise, Ludwig took his seat again and said, "Alright."

Feliciano, never adept at masking his emotions, grinned and clasped Ludwig's hand in a tight grip in utter relief. "Oh, thank you, Ludwig! Thank you! I promise, when I get out of the hospital I'll repay you!"

Ludwig's gaze darted everywhere but Feliciano's. "I-It's okay. That's not necessary."

"Of course it is," Feliciano replied sternly. "You're giving up your free time to spend time with and translate for a stranger. You're a saint."

It didn't escape his notice the way Ludwig's ears pinked.

"I think it's great that you know both languages. What do you do, Ludwig?"

"I'm, ah, a German language professor. Here in Rome."

"No wonder you speak Italian so well. At least, I trust that you do. You must need to in order to teach here. Professor Ludwig!" Feliciano giggled, thinking of this stern, serious man in front of a class. Ludwig's lip twitched in what Feliciano suspected would be the closest he was going to get to seeing the man smile. It made him grin until his eyes crinkled.

The door opened and a sullen, yet wary, Lovino entered. He held a stack of magazines in his arm and his eyes looked redder than when he'd left. Feliciano sobered at the thought that his brother might have been crying. And Feliciano couldn't comfort him with words.

He sat in his original seat, eyes glued to Ludwig's hand, which was still clasped between Feliciano's.

Without losing energy, he let go of Ludwig's hand and made himself open to Lovino. He figured that if he couldn't necessarily talk to him, then he could help Lovino be more comfortable with him. It was all so hard. It was like his own brother was more of a stranger than Ludwig was.

Lovino and Ludwig shared a brief conversation, Lovino terse and more agitated than before. On the one hand, Feliciano was glad the Lovino he knew and loved was coming back. On the other hand, he didn't like that his brother's attitude was directed mostly toward Ludwig.

Ludwig instructed him to pick a magazine. Lovino would help him read it, then Ludwig would help him translate it. They worked like that for a while, until Feliciano was able to retain the easy, repeated words. But it was still nothing like before the accident.

With his brain cramming what it thought was an entirely new language, Feliciano tired soon after their lesson began. Visiting hours were over soon and the sun was setting.

Feliciano grabbed Ludwig's hand again as he made to leave. "Remember," he said, smiling, "I want to repay you when I get discharged."

Ludwig sighed. "Fine."

A bit nervously, he said, "Could I have your number, Ludwig? I want to be able to arrange something with you when I get out, but… if you could do me a favor? Can I call you, if I need to talk to you?"

Ludwig didn't reply right away, and Feliciano bit his lip.

"I'm sorry, Ludwig. I know you've done so much already, but–"

"That's fine."

Feliciano blinked. "What?"

Ludwig took a pen and a sticky note from his side table and wrote down his number, handing it to him. "I don't mind."

Feliciano beamed. "Thank you! Oh!  _Grazie!_ "

Ludwig's lip twitched again, his ears looking slightly pinker than they were minutes ago. Feliciano watched him say goodbye to Lovino as well and exit the room.

Lovino rose once again, hastily flashed his palm and said, " _Aspetta_."

Feliciano remembered that one.  _Wait._

Lovino followed Ludwig out the door. Feliciano's nerves churned in his stomach. He wasn't sure how Lovino felt about Ludwig, but he could guess that it wasn't anything too positive. Lovino never liked many people.

But Feliciano himself… he thought Ludwig was kind and patient. He thought of how Ludwig spent nearly his entire day sitting with Feliciano – a stranger to him! – and taking the time to translate. He may have been a language professor, but it was still a tough job to do without planning for it.

Feliciano found himself smiling at the thought of that big, serious man. He really hoped he would get out of the hospital soon.

* * *

Ludwig was at the end of the hallway when Lovino called out his name. Judging by how the tetchy man had acted throughout the day, Ludwig didn't want to spend more time than necessary talking to him. For some reason, Lovino didn't like him, it was plain to see.

"Hey, you," he said, approaching him. Lovino only came up to his nose in height, but he sure knew how to puff himself up. "I need to tell you something."

Ludwig refrained from sighing. "Yes?"

"Thank you. For today," he said, as if it were paining him to do so. "But don't get involved with Feli anymore. He'll get better, and he doesn't need extra people hanging around."

Ludwig faced him squarely. "Can you converse with him in German?"

Lovino reacted as if he'd been slapped. "No, but–"

"Feliciano asked permission to call me while he cannot speak Italian, and I agreed."

"He gets attached to people very easily," Lovino retorted, face going red. "We don't know who the hell you are."

"I'm a professor at the university who agreed to help you. And now I'm leaving. I've no doubt your brother will do as he wishes. Goodbye."

Ludwig walked away, Lovino's curses fading as he closed the doors behind him. He thought back to Lovino's actions throughout the day. It was obvious that Lovino was protective of Feliciano, and that he blamed himself for the accident. Perhaps he disliked Ludwig because he could help in a way Lovino could not. It was a guess.

Ludwig pulled out his phone to text his brother that he was coming back. Absently he began flicking through his contacts.

 _Oh._  That's right. He gave Feliciano his number, but he never got his. Ludwig was surprised to find himself disappointed. He didn't really doubt that Feliciano would contact him, but it would have been nice to be able to send a check-up text…

 _Damnit_.

The entire time he spent in front of Feliciano he tried to focus only on translating for this man who'd just woken from a coma. He didn't need to be thinking about how easy his smile was, how bright his eyes were – and he didn't even know Ludwig from Adam.

There were times when Ludwig wanted to leave as soon as possible, but then Feliciano had blinked those big eyes, the color of golden topaz, and twisted his slim fingers around his big hands.

Feliciano could not have been more different than him in every way. But he found himself  _feeling_  for this poor young man who had taken him so off guard. He had just come out of a  _coma_  for Christ's sake. If he'd said no to Lovino, he would have felt guilty for the rest of the day.

Already Ludwig's nosy brother was trying to figure out what kept him at the hospital for hours. He would not,  _not_  give Gilbert this one, because he was no match for Gilbert's infuriating stubbornness.

No one but himself would know that he maybe – quite  _possibly_  – wanted to see Feliciano again.

Just to make sure he was doing alright, of course.

That was all.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Transposed from FF.
> 
> This is a concept I think about from time to time, and after some googling I found that it's an actual thing. Fortunate, too, so that the science behind it wouldn't have to be stretched.
> 
> Thanks for reading!


	2. Chapter 2

"I'm going to stay with you for a while," Lovino said as he rummaged through his drawers, throwing clothes into his suitcase. "The doctors may say you're fine, but I'll reserve judgment for myself."

He briskly entered his bathroom, collecting various toiletries and dumping them in his suitcase that lay open on his bed. Feliciano sat next to it, watching Lovino silently.

"Are you sure you don't want to stay here, with me?"

Feliciano chewed on his lip, nodding without meeting Lovino's gaze.

Lovino made a short grunt in the back of his throat. "It's probably better to keep you around familiar surroundings anyway. Not that my place is unfamiliar," he mumbled to himself while packing. "You're here as much as you are there."

Lovino made one last sweep around his apartment, unplugging appliances and electronics, locking the windows. He heaved his wheeled suitcase to the floor.

"Alright, Feliciano. Let's go."

Lovino had to swing his head around more than once to make sure his brother was following him. Feliciano had been silent all day, ever since his brain scans, ever since he'd been discharged with orders to rest and practice his Italian.

For he was still speaking German, his Italian still locked away. However there was one positive Lovino had discovered after fetching breakfast from the cafeteria. Feliciano was now able to  _understand_  Italian. Not completely, but it was a stride forward. At least he'd know what Lovino was saying, despite replying in that language that grated at his ears.

Lovino got them a cab and gave the driver Feliciano's address. With his suitcase in the trunk and Feliciano next to him in the back seat, Lovino turned to him.

His brother had been eerily quiet all day. They'd shared a brief moment of celebration when they'd discovered Feliciano's ability to understand him, but shortly after he'd become withdrawn. Suddenly, he didn't want to reply to any of Lovino's questions and sometimes he chose not to speak at all. That probably unnerved Lovino more than the German coming out of his mouth. A Feliciano that didn't talk… it was unheard of, worrying, and scary, if he were being honest. On top of his silence, Feliciano wouldn't make eye contact, there was a seemingly permanent sad furrow to his brows, and he held himself listlessly. All of these were completely unnatural for Feliciano, and Lovino was more than just a little worried.

Feliciano's apartment was on the sixth floor, and when they arrived at his door Lovino had to snap him back to attention to ask for the keys.

Wordlessly, Feliciano unlocked his apartment and stepped slowly inside. He went through the motions like a cross was bearing down on his back; flicking the lights on, shifting old mail around the countertop, finally settling himself on the sofa.

Lovino ignored him for the time being, instead bringing his suitcase into Feliciano's spare room, unpacking, pulling curtains aside, mindlessly straightening up anything remotely askew as he made his way back out into the living room. He saw Feliciano on the sofa, hands between his knees, chewing on his lip in deep thought. He sighed heavily.

Lovino had planned to have his own pity party, but because of the state Feliciano was in  _someone_  needed to keep the little dolt moving. And it looked like it was going to be him.

He took a seat on the sofa, facing Feliciano, noticing how he didn't look his way or even away from his lap.

"Alright, Feli," he said. "What's the matter?"

His brother's big, sad eyes glanced up at him, acknowledgement that he understood him. He just wasn't about to answer with words.

Feliciano shrugged and Lovino heaved another sigh.

"Speak," he said. When it was evident that Feliciano would not, Lovino asked, "You can still understand me, right?"

Feliciano swallowed and quietly replied, " _Ja_. Um… yes." He had been practicing quick responses in Italian, as opposed to German.

"Then what's the problem?"

Feliciano began wringing his hands. It was only when he started absently scratching at his hands that Lovino separated them.

"Stop doing that. You'll hurt yourself."

He let go when he was sure that Feliciano would stop. He tried again, "What's got you like this, Feli?"

" _Es tut–_ erm. I am sorry," he said weakly. He took out his phone, typed something into a translator, and showed it to Lovino.

 _It's just difficult_ , was what he said.

Lovino was sure that a simple sentence like that wasn't hard, especially after all their practice with the magazines the previous day. He told Feliciano to try his best to use Italian, even if it wasn't totally right, but he didn't expect him to completely clam up just because it was  _difficult_.

Even so, Lovino's own heart fell. After all, Feliciano wouldn't have this difficulty, he wouldn't be so miserable if Lovino hadn't… done this to him.

He schooled his expression. Feliciano didn't need Lovino's issues on his shoulders. To hide his burning eyes, Lovino pulled Feli against him.

His brother's head fell naturally onto his shoulder, Lovino's arm coming around him.

"It's okay, Feli," he said. "Don't give up."

"I'm sorry, Lovi. I'm sorry, I'm sorry."

It was Lovino who was sorry.

"Stop it," he mumbled, but it was without his usual chagrin.

Feliciano rest against him for a while longer, and Lovino let him. It was the least he could do for him at the moment.

When the light on the walls grew dimmer, the shadows announcing sundown, Lovino stirred.

Feliciano sat up and wiped his eyes. Lovino stood, giving him time to do so.

"You don't have much food. I'm going to the store to get dinner supplies. Do you want to come?"

Feliciano shook his head, but put on a weak smile, a shadow of his normal brightness.  _I'll be okay._

"Fine. Text me if you need anything."

Lovino closed the front door behind him and took a deep breath.

He glowered when one man interrupted his thoughts. That man, Ludwig Beilschmidt.

Feliciano was so happy talking to him. Chattering on in that grating German. Ludwig barely hesitated to give him his phone number. Oh, he probably thought he'd…  _befriended_  an easy stranger. No way, not Lovino's brother.

So far Feliciano had not expressed intent to contact Ludwig and Lovino wondered if he even remembered.

It was just as well. Lovino told that German that he wasn't needed. Feliciano would get better, he knew it. But an infuriating, niggling inkling told him that perhaps Ludwig could help his brother in a way he couldn't. And that made his jaw twitch in annoyance.

Lovino ultimately decided that he would contact Ludwig only as a last resort. Only.

* * *

After Lovino left for the store, Feliciano slowly withdrew his phone and scrolled through his contacts, finding Ludwig's name. His thumb hovered over the call button.

He promised Ludwig he'd repay him, and he intended to. Feliciano turned the screen off. He'd call Ludwig when he wasn't so unsure of himself.

It wasn't that he had a hard time speaking – he could still speak German with near perfect fluency and if he really practiced he could recite a few lines of Italian.

Feliciano was so anxious because he wasn't so sure  _what_  to say anymore. Lovino didn't understand a lick of German, and Feliciano didn't want to sour him with his extremely sub-par Italian. Lovino was never a patient person and he was already putting so much blame on himself.

It was obvious, even through the slight haze Feliciano had been in all day. It was also partly the cause of his haze.

When Lovino hugged him, it was such a comforting, nostalgic gesture. Feliciano would admit that he was more outwardly sensitive, and Lovino had always been the one to make him feel better. When he was having a rough time in school, when they lost their parents, through his breakups, Lovino would gripe and grumble, but he'd always give him his shoulder. Sometimes Feliciano was ignorant to his brother's troubles, yes, but he didn't want to be this time.

Even when he knew what was bothering him – that Lovino blamed himself, though only Lord knew why – Feliciano just wasn't used to being the comforter. So when he thought of the words, his mouth refused to open, fearing they'd be wrong. When the German that felt so natural was ready at the tip of his tongue he held it back, not wanting to upset Lovino. When Lovino told him to try Italian, he rarely followed through, not wanting to feel inadequate.

For three days he tried. He'd work himself up, repeating easy sentences over and over in his mind, but ultimately getting cold feet and backing out. Lovino remained patient with him, but it made Feliciano even more nervous.

For those three days Feliciano threw himself into cooking, baking. After the first day, he could sit idle no more. It was a good way to relearn words and phrases he found important – words related to food. When Lovino was out he read the cookbooks aloud, frowning when he felt his mind was no closer to recovering Italian than before. When Lovino returned, he fell silent again, speaking sparsely.

Instead, Feliciano forced himself to smile.

* * *

Ludwig had left his office for the day. It was Friday, the weekend at last. He wanted a beer and for Gilbert to be out of his apartment that night.

What Ludwig was not expecting, on the subway so close to his stop, was a call from an unknown number.

"Hello?"

"Beilschmidt," came an angry-sounding voice. "It's Lovino Vargas. From the hospital."

Ludwig groaned inwardly. "How did you get my number?"

"I got it from Feliciano's phone, where else?"

At the mention of Feliciano, Ludwig felt an odd twist in his stomach. He hadn't called him in days. Ludwig just assumed that he hadn't needed his help after all.

"Listen," Lovino said, harshly. "My brother hasn't been himself in days. He doesn't talk, he barely smiles and when he does we both know they're fake. He can understand me now but he's so hesitant to speak that he won't speak at all. You don't know him like I do, so believe me when I say that this is all very unlike him. Frankly, it's scaring me and… shit," he breathed. "I don't know what to do."

Ludwig had prepared himself for a rant at his expense, but wasn't prepared for Lovino's genuine concern. "Is still speaking German?"

"Yes. I know he understands me, but as for himself, it's still not clicking. Has he called you at all in the past few days?"

No he had not, and Ludwig told him as much. Ludwig wasn't disappointed, per se, but he had secretly been hoping to hear of some word.

"I need you to help me."

Smugness had him testing Lovino. "You made it pretty clear that you didn't want my help."

"And I just told you that I don't know what to do anymore!" Lovino paused, and Ludwig gave him time. "You need to see him. Get him back on track, or something, I don't know. Just… please, Ludwig."

His brother, Gilbert, joked that Ludwig was stone, immovable and unfazed. He was sure he'd meant it in a good way, but Ludwig often had wondered if those traits worked against him. He liked to think he was just practical. He helped people, if the cause was logical and a solution reachable. Certainly he felt for people, but his practicality stepped in to pick his battles, so to speak. Feliciano seemed a cause with an unforeseeable resolution.

Sure, he was nice enough in the hospital, Ludwig had gathered that much. Ludwig had even thought about him after he was already home, and if that was any indication that Feliciano was worth it, then Ludwig could leave practicality at the doorstep for the moment and at least see what the matter was.

"Okay. I'll help."

"Great. Here's Feliciano's address. He hasn't left the place in days, so he's most likely home cooking something or other."

Ludwig committed the address to memory, exchanged goodbyes with Lovino, and sighed. He stepped back into the metro and retraced his trip by a few stops.

The apartment building was of older architecture than his modern-styled building. But on entering it was obvious that in this case, older meant grander. Ludwig rode the elevator up to the sixth floor and paused in front of Feliciano's door.

 _Here goes nothing_.

Ludwig rang the buzzer and waited. A minute passed before the door slowly cracked open. He saw a topaz eye glittering back at him.

Feliciano opened the door the rest of the way in awe. Slowly, a smile lifted the corners of his lips. Ludwig would venture to say that this smile was nothing fake, like Lovino had described. Ludwig felt his own lips twitch in response.

"Ludwig! What are you doing here? How–"

"Lovino called me."

Quick as a flash, his smile dropped and he looked uneasy. "Oh. He must have told you then…"

"He told me some things, yes."

Feliciano started chewing on his lip, but he attempted brightness when he said, "Come in, come in. I was just… baking."

"What were you baking?"

Feliciano fidgeted with some sofa cushions, clearing away bits of clutter. "I made tiramisu. It's mine and Lovino's favorite." He gestured for Ludwig to take a seat as he bustled aimlessly about the kitchen. "Would you like anything? Coffee? Water?"

"No thanks." Ludwig studied him a minute. Feliciano was fiddling with his fingers, that unsure smile on his face. Looks like he'd have to be the one to initiate this. "Would you care to come out with me though? We can talk at a café."

There was an almost imperceptible widening of his eyes. "Ah, sure," he laughed nervously.

"You're afraid to go outside, aren't you?"

Sitting across from each other on the sofa, Feliciano's shoulders curved in and he slipped his hands between his knees. He was making himself smaller than he already was.

"Lovino told me you can understand Italian now, is that right?"

"Yes."

"That's great progress."

"But Ludwig I–" he paused.

Ludwig stood from the sofa and faced Feliciano, extending a hand. "Come on. Let's get coffee." On seeing Feliciano's doubt, he added, "You don't have to say anything. I'll do the talking."

Feliciano finally nodded, letting Ludwig haul him up. He was so timid right now, it was such a change from when he was confined to a hospital bed.

Once on the street, Ludwig glanced down at him and took some time to notice. Feliciano was a slim-framed man, not particularly lean-muscled but not too slight either. He and Lovino sure looked alike, though his eyes were darker and his hair was more auburn than Lovino's dark brown. They may have had slight differences in appearance, but in personality they were complete opposites.

"So," Ludwig began. "What cafés are good around here? I don't come to this neighborhood often."

"Oh. My favorite is a couple blocks this way."

Ludwig inclined his head for Feliciano to lead on.

As they walked, Feliciano twisted his fingers in the cuffs of his sleeves and Ludwig found it distracting to the point where the thought to grab his hand just to get him to stop flashed through his mind. And then Ludwig realized he was staring at Feliciano's hands and he coughed, quickly averting his gaze.

Feliciano led him to the café and the nerves radiating off him were palpable.

"What would you like?" Ludwig asked him in line.

"Cappuccino, please."

Ludwig nodded and gave their order to the barista, in Italian.

"Um, Ludwig," Feliciano said quietly. "I'll go find a table."

"Alright."

He watched Feliciano weave his way around customers and tables, looking like a kicked puppy in a den of wolves.

Ludwig sighed. He turned back to the barista and added, "A slice of cake, too, please."

* * *

Feliciano was beginning to think that being totally unable to understand Italian was less scary than hearing it everywhere, unable to form even a sentence himself. With the former, he could at least tune out the unintelligible gibberish. Nobody expected him to reply, then. In the case of the latter, he knew what people were saying but then worried that someone would expect a reply from him.

He'd found a corner table and sat with his back to the wall, watching Ludwig at the counter. Seeing him from afar, Feliciano could see the university professor in him. Confident stance, professional air, he seemed very knowledgeable. Feliciano wondered if he'd come to his apartment from the university. After all, Ludwig was wearing a tailored suit, nice shoes, and an inconspicuous black leather bag over his shoulder. He looked so good, Feliciano wrinkled his nose at his own state of dress.

Perhaps if his mind were functioning apart from  _Ludwig asked me out for coffee_  then he would have thought to change into a nicer cardigan at least. He was currently wearing his oversized, gelato-at-noon-butt-on-sofa cardigan. His t-shirt may or may not have been slightly wrinkled, he didn't even want to check. Needless to say, he was not expecting a foray into the world that day.

Ludwig finally approached the table, bearing two cups in one hand and a plate of cake in the other. Feliciano sat a little straighter.

Ludwig pushed the plate across the table to him. It was chocolate. "You look like you could use it," Ludwig said in way of an explanation.

Feliciano smiled. "You didn't have to, Ludwig." He belatedly realized Ludwig had bought their drinks, and the cake. He pouted in mock disappointment. "I'm supposed to repay you, you know."

Ludwig sat back in his chair, tapping his fingers against his cup. "This time doesn't count."

Feliciano felt his insides flutter. This time.  _This time_.

"So," Ludwig started, sipping his drink. "Do you work?"

He was a little surprised, he thought Ludwig was going to plunge right in. Feliciano pulled himself up, feeling more at ease.

"Yes, I work for Grandpa. Lovino and I both do. Grandpa has his own restaurants in Rome and Naples, called  _Vargas_ , have you heard of it?"

"I believe so, though I haven't been."

Feliciano smiled at the possibility of bringing him to their restaurant. "You should come sometime! Lovino and I help manage here in Rome, obviously. Lovino's had to do a lot of the work by himself though, since I was… well, in the hospital. And now…"

"I would like that, thank you."

Ludwig was an interesting person, Feliciano mused. He could accept an invitation to his family's restaurant all with a schooled, casual nonchalance, yet still make Feliciano bloom with happiness and hope. It had to do with his eyes, he noted again. His facial features may have appeared impassive, but his eyes seemed gently pleased.

"Can I ask a question, Ludwig?"

"Yes?"

"At the hospital, I just assumed that Italian was your second language. Did you live in Germany before?"

Ludwig blinked, as if he weren't expecting the conversation to turn to him. "I did. With my brother, Gilbert."

"Your brother! How is he?"

"He's fine. As fine as he'll ever be," he said under his breath in the familiar way of siblings. "He's down here visiting right now."

Feliciano couldn't help it when he laughed lightly at the thought of Ludwig with his brother.

Ludwig tilted his head. "What is it?"

He was still grinning when he said, "Oh, nothing. What's Gilbert like?"

Ludwig rolled his eyes. "He's loud and a pain in the ass, especially when he drinks too much."

Feliciano giggled. "That sounds like me." Ludwig raised an eyebrow, confused. "At least, that's what Lovino says. Minus the getting drunk part. Though there were a couple times," he trailed off, reflective. "Lovino has told me that I get really affectionate. Well, more than I usually am, at least."

Was Feliciano imagining the flushed tint to Ludwig's ears? He stifled a smile at his expense. It sure was endearing though.

"How long have you been teaching at the university?"

Ludwig cleared his throat, shifting in his seat. "Ah, just over a year."

"So you must have only been here that long, right?" Feliciano confirmed. "There must be a lot of the city you still have to see! I would love to show you around."

Feliciano hadn't even thought of his anxiousness in going out for this simple conversation over coffee. He'd been a nervous wreck, worried that at any moment someone was going to expect him to talk to them, worried that at any moment his brain would falter and the buzzing around him would return to gibberish noise, though that seemed implausible now. Feliciano's ability to understand, as well as his memory, was getting better every day. He hoped it wouldn't be long until his Italian came back.

So it surprised him, in a distracted way, that he was so eager to explore the town with Ludwig. His musings were distracted because of the man sitting in front of him. Feliciano had to pay attention to Ludwig, otherwise he'd miss all the little signs and details – details he didn't want to miss. Like how he seemed to become bashful when talking about himself, how his lips twitched when Feliciano said something amusing, and how his eyes softened when Feliciano was speaking. Feliciano saw them all, and it made the hope in his chest bloom more and more with each passing moment.

He noticed the café becoming less populated as time went on, and an idea popped into his head.

"Ludwig, would you like to come over? I told Lovino I would cook tonight," he said. It was a flimsy excuse for him, because Feliciano cooked almost every night, but Ludwig didn't have to know the finer details. "I was thinking of making something from Grandpa's menu. You could get a taste of what we serve."

Feliciano's heart beat expectantly as he waited for Ludwig to reply. He wanted nothing more than to spend a couple more hours with him.

"Sure."

Feliciano grinned.

* * *

Ludwig did not expect to be cooking alongside Feliciano that night, though he found himself more often sweeping and wiping up his small messes in between his own few culinary tasks. He didn't mind the tedium that came with keeping an eye out for Feliciano's less than tidy hand, a cloth at the ready to clean up whatever spill he made.

No, what he  _did_  mind was the fact that he… sort of enjoyed it. It perplexed him, because for him cooking was practical. He needed to make the food to eat the food, while making as little mess as possible. Gilbert rarely cooked, but when he did it left Ludwig more stressed than grateful.

Feliciano was content, humming tunes and flitting from counter to stove, a soft smile on his face all the while.

It hadn't escaped Ludwig's notice that ever since their conversation at the café began, he hadn't stopped smiling. Ludwig knew the subject of his language anxiety needed to come up, but every time Feliciano smiled he couldn't bring himself to dampen his mood. He liked Feliciano's smiles.

"Have you ever cooked anything like this, Ludwig?"

He was glad Feliciano's eyes were on the food, because he was staring.

"Um, I can't say that I have."

"I haven't cooked for anyone in a long time."

"Don't you cook for Lovino?"

"That doesn't count." Feliciano tilted his head to the side in thought. "Hmm. My last boyfriend liked my cooking," he said, glancing up at Ludwig. "But that was about it."

"Gilbert doesn't cook. I try to keep him out of the kitchen, actually."

Feliciano laughed. "What about you? Do you cook?"

"Sometimes. I–" the words were coming out of his mouth before he could stop them. "I bake, more often."

Feliciano lit up. "Really? I like them equally but there's just something more fun about baking."

Ludwig scratched his ear, mumbling some agreement.

At that moment, the front door opened and Lovino entered, noisily dropping his bags and kicking his shoes off.

Ludwig watched in rapt curiosity – and ultimately in concern – at what unfolded next.

Lovino called out a neutral, "I'm home."

Feliciano lifted his face from the food cooking on the stove and swung around, grinning. "Lovi!" he exclaimed. "Welcome back. I'm making one of Grandpa's dishes. I invited Ludwig to join us. He's never been to the restaurant but–"

Like a flash of lightning over his face, he stopped talking, eyes averting from Lovino's stunned expression. He idly wiped his hands on the dishcloth.

" _Mi– mi dispiace_ , Lovi," he mumbled.

Ludwig caught Lovino's eye. He sent him a silent warning.

Lovino shook his head. "No, Feli, it's fine."

Ludwig decided that some translation might have been of use. "He said 'welcome back.' He's making something from your restaurant."

"I see," he replied, giving Ludwig that familiar critical eye. "You know about our restaurant, then."

Ludwig nodded, unperturbed by Lovino's shrewdness. "We went out for coffee, and had a nice conversation."

Feliciano flashed him a small, grateful smile.

He was trying to stay bright throughout dinner. Lovino was obviously a little skeptical of Ludwig, but Ludwig paid him no heed. He quietly encouraged Feliciano, in German, to speak in whatever language he wanted. Ludwig dutifully translated any German, and implored Lovino, with a steely eye, to reciprocate.

As far as less than comfortable dinners went, this one wasn't so bad. Lovino had mellowed out after a glass of wine and Feliciano had gained confidence in speaking.

He was preparing to leave, and he noticed Feliciano fiddling with his hands again.

Feliciano walked him to the door. "Thank you, Ludwig, for spending the day with me."

"It was no problem," he replied, finding that he also rather enjoyed the day. "Thank you for dinner."

Feliciano smiled. "You're welcome, but this didn't count."

"What do you mean?"

He shrugged. "I was going to make dinner anyway, and I always make more than Lovino and I can eat. So," he drawled, his lips twisting up into a smirk. "Consider the debt still unpaid."

Oh, he meant repaying Ludwig for his hospital services. "Ah, very well then."

"Would you… like to go out again soon? I can show you some places around the city you haven't seen."

Ludwig thought that that was actually a nice idea. He hadn't taken the time to sightsee in months. And the historical sights around town had some interesting information attached to them. "That sounds good."

"Great!" Feliciano clapped his hands together. "Um,  _ciao_ , Ludwig!"

Ludwig nodded. " _Ciao_ , Feliciano."

* * *

Feliciano was so happy he could burst. He made sure Ludwig was in the elevator at the end of the hall before closing the door behind him with an unabashedly ecstatic smile on his face.  _He was going out again with Ludwig_.

Lovino came out of his bedroom, seeing Feliciano by the door, and his eyes narrowed.

"You like him," Lovino said.

Feliciano's heart began to race. " _C– cosa?_ "

"Don't give me that. You  _like_  him. You have a crush on him."

So what if he did? Lovino was just being crabby and critical like always. Feliciano would have just shrugged and gone back to being silent, but he felt like he needed to defend himself on this, or defend Ludwig, he wasn't sure. Ludwig had told him to use a translator if he needed, that there was no shame in it.

Feliciano pulled his phone out of his pocket and quickly typed into the translator. "I asked him to go out with me soon, and he said yes," he typed.

Lovino rolled his eyes. "Sure, but did  _he_  know you meant it as a date? He seems really thickheaded."

Feliciano pouted in admonishment, but Lovi did have a point. He hadn't specified it as a date, but Ludwig had given him every sign! "He likes me too," he typed to Lovino. "He bought me coffee  _and_  cake today, he accepted my invitation to the restaurant, and he came back here and made dinner with me. I can just tell, I know he likes me."

Lovino huffed. "Just don't have too many expectations."

Knowing Lovino, that was as good as an assent. Feliciano threw his arms around his brother, laughing.

In broken Italian he said, "Thank you for calling him, Lovi." He hoped he understood.

His nerves were relieved when he felt Lovino's hands pat his back. "Yeah. You're welcome. Now get off me."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! It's been a while since I originally wrote this chapter, but I'll be getting back to it soon!


	3. Chapter 3

“I can’t believe you’ve never been to the Borghese Gallery, Ludwig.”

            They were actually strolling through the Villa Borghese Gardens, enjoying as much of the property as possible. It was a pleasantly warm, cloudless day and Ludwig was able to forego a jacket, simply rolling up his shirtsleeves. The sun felt nice on his skin. Oftentimes he felt like he never got out, always stuck in his office or at home afterwards.

            “I mentioned I hadn’t gotten around to seeing much,” he replied.

            Feliciano laughed. “You did. In any case, I’m glad I got to show this to you.”

            Ludwig smiled and nodded. “I’m glad too.”

            They walked on wordlessly and Ludwig continued to glance around, taking in the immaculately kept gardens and sprawling lawns. It felt like the countryside, not a metropolitan city.

            They walked in silence another hundred feet before Ludwig registered the _lack_ of Feliciano’s chattering. He glanced questioningly at him, and met Feliciano’s gaze.

            He was watching him with a soft smile.

            “What is it?” Ludwig asked.

            Feliciano bit his lip and directed his gaze forward down the path. “Oh, it’s nothing,” he said.

            Ludwig’s gaze lingered. The sun was doing things to Feliciano’s hair that absorbed all his attention. Dark in the shadows, auburn in the middle, and amber gold where the sun touched it.

            “Look,” Feliciano suddenly said, pointing. “There’s the gallery.”

            Tucked in the middle of the Borghese gardens was the gallery itself. Ludwig listened to Feliciano talk about the history of the villa, the gallery, the art inside. He seemed to have done his research before hand, something Ludwig appreciated. He was like Ludwig’s personal tour guide, albeit a much more companionable tour guide.

            Inside the gallery, they entered the first grand room and Feliciano said, “Oh, Ludwig, here they are, my favorites.”

            In the middle of the room stood a marble sculpture, with other museum-goers all standing around it as well.

            Ludwig took it in, admiring its beauty.

            “It’s a Bernini,” Feliciano breathed. “There are three others in the gallery. They’re my favorite.”

            Ludwig watch Feliciano as he spoke, his gaze drawn upwards onto the sculpture with unsuppressed reverence and awe.

            “Do you like sculpture?” he asked.

            Feliciano nodded, still captured in a daze of wonder. “Oh, yes. I love all art. But sculpture, and Bernini’s sculpture, has to be my favorite.”

            “Why?” Ludwig prompted gently.

            Now, Feliciano lifted his hands, as if he were tracing and caressing each curve and form. “Look at them,” he said, gesturing to the two carved figures. “They’re fluid, dynamic. You can almost feel the blood pulsing underneath the marble. They’re so full of emotion – that’s probably my most favorite part. The intensity, the anguish, they express emotions with their whole bodies, not just their faces. You know the story just by looking at them.”

            Feliciano paused, but Ludwig refrained from speaking. Something melancholy had entered his eyes then, as if the anguished figures in front of him now called for sadness instead of awe. “I love classic art for that reason. I’ve always been more sympathetic – emotional, I suppose you could say.” Feliciano mused another minute in quiet thoughtfulness. “Lovino – he’s not that way.”

            He took a deep breath and tilted his head to the side. “I mean, he _is_ emotional, I’m sure you know by now. But for him, he says this kind of art is… too emotional. It was like that growing up. Grandpa took us to a lot of museums and whatever I liked, Lovino hated. He prefers contemporary art. I’ve never really understood why,” he trailed off. Then, he chuckled. “Maybe that’s just because I don’t prefer it myself.”

            Feliciano glanced at him. “What kind of art do you like, Ludwig?”

            Ludwig blinked and finally looked away from Feliciano, at the sculpture, anything else. “I’ve never really thought about it. I suppose I like contemporary art as well.”

            Feliciano laughed. “I thought you would say that. Why do you?”

            “I don’t know if I can properly say,” Ludwig said, wracking his brain for the bits of art vocabulary he remembered from school. “I like art that prompts an intrinsic response. If I look at it and feel something right away, then I like it.”

            “Hmm,” Feliciano mused. “I wonder if Lovino is that way too.”

            Feliciano touched his arm next, a light touch of warm fingers. “Let me show you the other Berninis,” he said with a renewed energy. Ludwig followed him.

            

* * *

 

            Feliciano had been to the Borghese gallery quite a few times before. After Ludwig left his apartment three nights ago, Feliciano began sorting out places to take him. He’d asked him what art museums he’d been to already, and was pleased – and surprised – when he hadn’t mentioned the Borghese. Luckily, Feliciano’s grandpa knew one of the managers of the gallery, which meant he was able to get tickets on short notice.

            For three days Feliciano prattled endlessly to Lovino, asking a question here and there about subtle flirtation, how something would sound if he phrased it a certain way, and what moves to put on Ludwig. Never mind that Lovino probably wasn’t the best person to get constructive advice from, but Feliciano often brainstormed aloud.

            He ultimately decided that this outing to the gallery would be the first step on Operation: Date Ludwig.

            When Ludwig had taken him out of the apartment for coffee, Feliciano still felt too turbulent to realize how he was feeling. It was when he was leaving that Feliciano’s mind was much more at ease and he decided to test the waters by suggesting another casual day together.

            Feliciano watched him now, as they walked through the gallery, taking in the way his eyes evaluated each piece, the way his lips curved slightly up or pursed in thought, and the way his shoulders shifted, his hands held behind his back.

            Everything about Ludwig was so subtle, so logical, it made Feliciano smile. He looked like he was appraising art for the market, and not like a visitor strolling through one of the most famous galleries.

            Feliciano couldn’t help but go back to those eyes, those two windows into everything Ludwig was feeling. He himself was like the statuary, stoic in appearance, precise in the way he held himself.

            Feliciano walked a little closer to him.

            On their way back, walking through the gardens, Ludwig thanked Feliciano for taking him.

            Feliciano laughed. “Thank you for coming,” he said. “Maybe I’ll take you to the modern art gallery next time.”

            Ludwig smiled as he looked forward through the trees. “That would be nice.”

            Feliciano grinned and mentally patted himself on the back. The day was going well so far.

            “Feliciano.”

            Feliciano flashed a smile. “Yes?”

            Ludwig’s gaze shifted around before focusing on him. “How is your Italian going?”

            Feliciano’s smile drooped slightly at the mention of the subject. He laughed nervously before answering, “It’s not all the way there yet, but it’s getting easier.”

            “That’s good,” Ludwig said.

            Feliciano realized they’d been speaking in German all this time, and nibbled on his lip. “I keep expecting to wake up one morning with it fully returned, but then I forget a word or my nerves keep me from speaking.”

            “It’s alright,” Ludwig said, and Feliciano felt a rush of peace. “It’ll come in time.”

            Now that he was thinking about it, another aspect of his issue came to mind. “It’s still hard though. I can’t talk to Lovino like I used to, and he would never admit it but it’s affecting him too.” He paused, but Ludwig was still listening. “Especially… what you mentioned at the hospital. I’ve been watching him.” He hesitated, feeling a little bad for talking about Lovi behind his back like this. “He’s so much sadder than he used to be. You said he felt guilty for the car accident, but I haven’t really figured out why.”

            “Perhaps you need to sit down with him and talk about it,” Ludwig said and Feliciano looked up from his feet.

            He attempted a laugh. “He won’t like that much.”

            “Even so, maybe it just needs to be done.”

            Lovino _would_ try to work his way out of it, but Feliciano did see the sense in Ludwig’s suggestion. He smiled and his hand itched to grab onto Ludwig’s.

            With each minute they spent in the gardens, the more Feliciano wanted to spend time with him. So when the opportunity came to his mind, he didn’t hesitate to pose the question.

            “Ludwig, are you free tomorrow night?” he asked.

            Ludwig thought a moment, then he replied, “Yes, I am. Why?”

            “I was thinking of taking you to our restaurant. Would… you like to go with me?”

            Feliciano’s heart hammered in his chest, waiting for Ludwig’s response. Because if Ludwig replied how Feliciano hoped he would, then he would have the courage to take the next step.

            Not long after he’d asked the question, Ludwig said, “Yes, I would. That sounds great.”

            Feliciano was elated.

            

* * *

 

            Ludwig thought the offer very kind. Feliciano had mentioned the restaurant once before, when he’d come over for dinner, and Ludwig figured a meal out with someone he considered a friend would be… nice.

            Feliciano seemed excited, and it seemed he was able to help him with Lovino. Seeing Feliciano happy… made him happy too.

            But there was a new side to his relationship with Feliciano that he didn’t know how to make sense of. In the gallery, he found himself watching Feliciano when he wasn’t looking, admiring the way his eyes shone and the dimples in his cheeks when he smiled.

            And his eyelashes were so _long_.

            Ludwig didn’t know what to call this new, confusing… thing. So the next day, when he was getting ready for the dinner, he chalked up his inability to choose between two jackets to this feeling he couldn’t put a label to.

            His brother, Gilbert, was having a good time of it, though.

            “I’m sure the kid will like anything you wear, Lud,” Gilbert laughed from where he’d thrown himself onto Ludwig’s bed. “But wear the blazer. It’s a little nicer than the sport coat.”

            Ludwig shot him a look. “That’s not the issue, Gilbert. And why are you even still here?”

            Gilbert shrugged. “I decided to stay another week. Don’t change the subject. I’ve never seen you this flustered over a date. Have you even been on a date? I can’t remember.”

            Something twisted in Ludwig’s stomach. “I _have_ been on dates. But this is not a date.” Ludwig cursed Gilbert’s ability to sidetrack him. “We’re friends.”

            Gilbert was silent for once, flashing him a dry glare. “Uh-huh. A friend invites you out to dinner, to one of the fanciest joints in the city, out of the goodness of his friendly heart.”

            “Gilbert, stop it.” But it was too late. Ludwig was already second-guessing his stance on the “date”. “Feliciano is a nice guy, that’s all.”

            He heard Gilbert sigh and mumble, “Yeah, well don’t break the kid’s heart,” as he walked out of the room.

           

Ludwig convinced himself that breaking hearts wouldn’t be a problem, because it wasn’t like that with Feliciano anyway. A little part of him knew that was false, but Ludwig didn’t have time to mull it over. Feliciano was waiting outside the restaurant, Vargas, looking impeccably well dressed. He grinned and waved at Ludwig as he approached.

“Welcome to Vargas!” Feliciano greeted. “I’m glad you could come see the restaurant – it’s like mine and Lovino’s second home. Lovino’s not here tonight, though, don’t worry. If he knew he probably would have insisted on working tonight and we really wouldn’t get any peace,” he laughed as they entered.

Ludwig found himself liking the place immediately, and Feliciano did, in fact, look very suited to the atmosphere. He could imagine him flitting about the place as he worked, with that shining smile on his face.

The host led them to a semi-secluded table, handed them menus, and left.

Ludwig looked at the menu, mostly because Feliciano was smiling at him and Ludwig didn’t know exactly what to make of it.

Finally, after Feliciano ran through their impressive wine list and they’d ordered, Ludwig cleared his throat.

“So, I don’t think you actually told me what you do,” he said.

Feliciano cocked his head and chuckled. “I don’t think I did. Lovino and I do the front-of-house management. We’re pretty lucky that it’s in the family, and Grandpa hired us right of college. Like I said, Lovino doesn’t work tonight, and usually I would be, but until I’m… fully recovered our bar manager is filling in.”

Ludwig nodded. “Have you talked to him yet?”

He laughed what Ludwig recognized as that nervous laugh. “Ah, no, I haven’t yet. But I promise I will.”

“It’s okay. We don’t need to talk about that now.”

Feliciano smiled again, leaning forward. “No. I want to know about you.”

Ludwig took a sip of wine. He was habitually a beer drinker, but this wine was good. “What do you want to know?”

Feliciano swirled his glass. “Mmm. What do you like to do?”

Ludwig thought it over. “When I’m not grading papers, I like to read. Though I do enjoy my work, I chose it after all.”

Feliciano was smiling. “That’s nice. What do you read?”

“Right now I’m reading a history of the Romance languages, language families and etymology.”

Feliciano’s eyes widened. He laughed. “How very like a language professor. Do you know any other languages?”

He nodded. “Enough English and a little French.”

“That’s amazing. Did you learn from your family?”

Ludwig smiled wryly, thinking of Gilbert. “No, my family is very… entrenched in their German. Gilbert doesn’t have the attention span to learn – though he’ll say he doesn’t have the time. My grandfather… I can’t really say. I’ve never heard him use anything else.”

“Your grandfather?”

“Yes. He raised Gilbert and I.”

“We have that in common,” Feliciano said with a soft smile. “Is Gilbert still staying with you?”

“He is. He was supposed to leave a few days ago actually. He tends to come and go when he pleases.”

“I do the same to Lovino, and we’re both in the same city. Does he live in Germany?”

“Berlin,” he clarified, nodding. Now that he thought of it, Gilbert hadn’t visited him in Rome in a long while. Ludwig more often made trips back to Germany. “It is good to see him.”

When Ludwig glanced up, he was briefly distracted by the way the ambient lighting and candlelight worked in tandem to make Feliciano’s eyes glimmer like amber stones.

Feliciano laughed. “I’d like to meet Gilbert.”

Ludwig had a startling flashback to Gilbert teasing him in his bedroom not two hours ago. “Ah, perhaps sometime.”

That uncomfortable reminder of what Gilbert said made itself present in a corner of Ludwig’s mind all throughout dinner. He did his best to ignore it and simply enjoy himself. When the check came, Ludwig started to take out his wallet but Feliciano stopped him.

“It’s on me,” he said with a wink. “It’s my family’s restaurant anyway.”

Once they were outside and walking back, Feliciano then asked, “What did you think?”

“Everything was wonderful. You have a great restaurant.”

Feliciano simply beamed. “Thank you, Ludwig. I’ll be sure to tell Grandpa!” When Ludwig continued to walk with him, he asked, “Isn’t the subway the opposite direction?”

Ludwig looked ahead, rubbing his fingers behind his back. “You don’t live far from here, right? I can walk you back.”

“That’s very kind of you,” Feliciano said, absolutely grinning.

* * *

 

_Now’s your chance, Feli_ , Feliciano told himself, beside himself with giddiness. Ludwig had offered to walk him home! The dinner had gone better than he could have imagined. Ludwig talked easily with him, he’d gotten to know more about him, and they even talked a little about future “outings”, though Feliciano secretly called them dates.

He just wanted this one last thing to go right, and if it did then he’d be on cloud nine. He was building up his nerve the entire walk home to his apartment building. Had the city always felt so romantic in the evening?

Feliciano didn’t have any more time to psych himself up. They’d turned the corner and were approaching his building. There on the sidewalk, outside the doors, Feliciano turned to Ludwig.

“Thank you for spending the evening with me, Ludwig. I hope we can do it again?”

Ludwig nodded, though he didn’t appear particularly overjoyed or disappointed. It was simply like Ludwig, Feliciano mused. “Yes,” he replied. “I really enjoyed the evening myself.”

Feliciano bit his lip and smiled. “Great!” Oh, now his stomach was churning. “Um, Ludwig?”

“Hmm?”

He had Ludwig’s full attention now. He just needed to…

Feliciano grabbed Ludwig’s hand, careful to hold it gently and assuring. He pushed himself onto his toes and kissed him.

Butterflies erupted in Feliciano’s stomach. He’d finally done it, and it was so much easier than he thought!

However, it soon became evident that Ludwig was not moving, was barely even breathing. There was no response from him and Feliciano’s courage and confidence was shot like a goose during hunting season.

He slowly backed away, watching in horror as Ludwig’s brow furrowed over his eyes and his jaw fell open in what was probably disgust.

He hated him now. Everything Feliciano believed was wrong. All the little advances and flirtations were for nothing. Every signal, every clue he’d gotten from Ludwig had, in fact, been wrong.

Embarrassment sent his heart beating wildly, and tears pricked at his eyes.

“Ludwig, I’m–” How could he even apologize? “I’m so sorry. I thought– I thought you…”

Ludwig was still silent. He was too disgusted by Feliciano’s abrupt kiss that he was speechless.

“I’m so sorry,” he repeated, finding his feet and backing away toward the doors. “I’ll just… I’ll go.”

Feliciano was through the doors before he heard Ludwig shout his name behind him, but he was already gone, into the elevator and slamming the button to close the doors. The sixth floor couldn’t come fast enough, but when it did Feliciano tore down the hall and fumbled with his keys to open his door.

With eyes clouded with tears, Feliciano prayed, _Don’t be here, Lovino, don’t be here._

“Feli?” Lovino asked, shocked and instantly on alert by the sight of him.

“I’m fine, Lovi, just–” He hurried to his bedroom and shut the door behind him, aware that Lovino was most likely going to storm in. He curled himself up on his bed and pulled the blanket over his head before Lovino did just that.

“Feli,” Lovino exclaimed, sounding at the same time angry and worried. “Feli, what happened?”

“It’s nothing, don’t mind me.”

“Bullshit. Tell me what–” His pause meant he understood. “It’s that damn German, isn’t it? You went out with him again, right? What did he do?”

When Feliciano didn’t answer, Lovino ripped the blanket away from his face, and he was right there. “What did he do, Feli?”

“He did nothing!” Really, he’d done _nothing_. He supposed that in order to get Lovino off his back he’d need to tell him. “I… I took him to Vargas, for dinner. It was going so well, we talked a lot and he said he’d really enjoyed the night. He even walked me back here and then I… I kissed him. Oh, Lovi, I shouldn’t have done that. He hates me now. I was wrong about thinking that he liked me. He never liked me the way I like him, and now I ruined everything.”

Lovino grabbed his shoulders. “Feliciano, don’t you say that. _He’s_ the idiot, okay? He’s the thickheaded idiot.”

“He just stood there! Stupid Ludwig, he just stood there.”

Lovino tore away and marched to the door. “He’s probably still out there, I’m going to–”

Feliciano launched himself off the bed in a panic and clutched Lovino’s arm. “Lovi, you can’t! Please don’t, I’ve had enough embarrassment for one day. Leave him alone.”

Lovino was good at being angry, Feliciano knew this. As he stood there, he could feel the energy tensing up his muscles, he could see the flames in his eyes. But as he watched Feliciano plead with him, Lovino’s shoulders slumped and he exhaled.

“Fine. But we’re talking about this. Tomorrow, Feli.”

Feliciano nodded, anything to get Lovino to leave him be for the night.

Lovino left his bedroom, shutting the door behind him, but Feliciano didn’t even get two minutes of peace. Just then, an earnest knock sounded at the door.

He knew it was going to be Ludwig, and Lovino was going to face him. But Feliciano couldn’t bring himself to open the door. Instead, he stood with his ear pressed to the crack to hear everything they said.

Lovino opened the door and said, “You. What the fuck do you want?”

“Lovino, please, let me–”

“No! You will _not_ talk to Feli right now. Not after what you just did to him.”

Ludwig sounded progressively more frustrated. “This is between _us_ , you don’t need to be involved.”

“I don’t need to be involved?” Lovino repeated, incredulously. “I don’t need to be involved in _my_ little brother’s troubles? Me, who grew up with him? Me, who promised to protect him after our parents died because all we had was each other? Until _you_ are left to help raise your little brother do not tell me not to be involved with him. I don’t care if he’s exaggerating what happened, Feli is hurt and I will not have you here tonight.”

There was silence, and Feliciano was crying again, but for a whole new reason.

Finally, Ludwig spoke. It was quiet, and Feliciano had to strain to hear.

“You’re right,” he said. “I don’t know what it’s like from your end. I’m sorry to disturb you, Lovino. Good night.”

Feliciano didn’t hear anything more, only Lovino shutting the door and collapsing onto the couch with a heavy sigh.

Feliciano crawled back into bed thoroughly exhausted. He didn’t have any idea yet of how to deal with the situation with Ludwig, but he knew one thing. He suddenly understood why Lovino had blamed himself for the car crash.

* * *

 

Ludwig slammed his door shut behind him, Lovino’s words still ringing in his ears. He slumped down onto the floor, his back pressed to the door, his head in his hands.

First Feliciano running out on him, then Lovino yelling at him, what more could there be?

“Hey, Lud? How was the night–” Gilbert came to an abrupt halt in the hallway when he found Ludwig on the floor. “Ludwig? What happened?”

“Please, go away Gilbert,” he said through clenched teeth.

Instead, Gilbert came over and crouched in front of him. “Hey,” he said gently. “Talk to me. What happened? I thought things were going well?”

Ludwig’s head snapped up and he snarled, “Yes, well not anymore. I screwed everything up and I couldn’t even try to fix it.”

Gilbert put his hands under his elbows and hoisted him up, led him to the couch. “You’re scaring me. Tell me what happened.”

As if he’d been granted permission, everything came spilling out.

“The night _was_ going very well. We were both enjoying ourselves and I walked Feliciano home. Then he… he kissed me.”

“He _what_?”

“He kissed me, Gil, and I– I just stood there. In shock, I– I wasn’t expecting it at all. I should have been expecting it. Dammit, it _was_ a date, Gilbert. But I couldn’t see that and then he tried to kiss me and I did nothing. He apologized profusely and I couldn’t even catch up to him because his brother was there to chew me out.”

“His brother? What did he say to you?” Gilbert asked warily.

Simmering from the fresh memory of Lovino’s words, Ludwig told him, “He said that I wasn’t to see Feliciano tonight. That I’d hurt him and Lovino was only protecting him. He went on about how it was his right to protect him, because he’d practically raised him or something. That I would never know what that feels like, and therefore I couldn’t possibly know how he and how Feliciano was feeling.”

Gilbert was silent, and Ludwig looked up to find his expression serious. “What, Gilbert? Are you going to say he’s right? I know what it’s like. They were raised by their grandfather, and so were we–”

“Let’s get one thing straight, Ludwig. _I_ was raised by Opa,” Gilbert interrupted fiercely. Ludwig swallowed and blinked. Gilbert pounded his chest with his hand. “And _I_ raised you, don’t you forget that. Opa was only keeping us because it was the law. He didn’t look after you like I did. I made it my job to see that you grew up with a proper role model. And maybe I did my job too well, because look what you’ve gone and done to the poor kid.” Gilbert’s tone softened. “Look, Lud. I’m not totally blaming you here, but I can understand where this Lovino is coming from. If someone did that to you, you can bet your ass I’d be in jail right now.”

Ludwig dropped his gaze to his hands held weakly in his lap. “I’m sorry, Gil. It didn’t occur to me…”

“It’s okay, Lud. Come here,” he said, and pulled Ludwig forward into a tight hug. Gilbert held him back with his hands on his shoulders and asked, “Now, tell me: do you like Feliciano?”

“Well, yes, I–”

“Ludwig, do you _like_ him?”

Ludwig swallowed. He didn’t have time to contemplate, so Ludwig answered quickly and honestly. “Yes. I do.”

Gilbert nodded. “Then tomorrow you’ll tell him that.”

How could Ludwig’s life make a complete turn in as little as two hours? Though if he really thought about it, it’d been happening since he met Feliciano. Ludwig was, frankly, exhausted after the whirlwind of the night. He’d been unaware of so many things, but now he would sort out at least one of them.

Tomorrow. For now, he would get some much needed rest.

* * *

 

Lovino was already in the kitchen the next morning, his back to Feliciano as he came out of his bedroom. Lovino had made coffee and was hovering silently over his mug.

Feliciano wrung his hands and approached him.

“Lovi?”

Lovino turned, only half looking at him. “Good morning, Feli.”

He was going to be silent today, Feliciano thought. His brother had two modes, but the quieter side was a lot more rare, and a lot more worrying.

“We need to talk, Lovi,” he said, sitting at the counter stool.

“Would you like some coffee?”

Feliciano sighed. “Yes, please.” He waited until Lovino had slid his mug over before continuing.

Before he could say anything, though, Lovino said, “You heard. Last night.”

Feliciano bit his lip and nodded.

“I meant everything I said.”

“I know, and I should have talked to you about this earlier, but I was… I had just gotten out of the hospital and I was worrying over my Italian…”

Lovino was watching him warily, as if he knew where this was going. Feliciano took a deep breath.

“Lovi, I know that you blame yourself for the accident. There’s no reason for you to, but I think I know why.”

“You think you know why,” Lovino repeated under his breath.

“You said it last night, that you promised yourself you’d protect me. That’s something I’ve never really taken into account in the past. I probably took advantage of that without even knowing it, and for that I’m sorry.”

“Feli, you don’t–”

“But Lovi, don’t blame yourself anymore for what happens to me. I’m grown up now. You don’t need to protect me from playground bullies. I love you so much, Lovi, and I appreciate everything you did for me that Grandpa couldn’t. But it’s only going to hurt me more knowing that you’re so sad because of something you couldn’t control. So please, for your own sake,” he trailed.

Lovino hung his head and Feliciano waited. Finally, Lovino glanced up with a small smile. “You got me. After so many years I guess I just can’t help it.”

Feliciano smiled. “I know. It’s okay.” Seeing his brother finally smiling, Feliciano felt his hands itching to hug him. “Can I…?”

Lovino sighed, but he was still smiling. “Yes, come here, stupid.”

Feliciano bounced off his seat and threw himself at Lovino, hugging him tight. His heart lifted when he felt Lovino hug him back.

“I’m going to go see Ludwig,” Feliciano told him. “I have to make things right.”

Lovino groaned. “Do you have to?”

“Lovino, be nice,” he scolded. “I’m sure he’s not going to come back here after how badly you told him off.”

“I’m proud of that, by the way,” Lovino replied, smugly.

Feliciano rolled his eyes. “I know you are.”

“Feliciano,” Lovino said suddenly, a quizzical look in his eyes. “You’ve been speaking perfect Italian.”

His jaw dropped open and he blinked. “I have?” Lovino nodded. Excitement bubbled up in him and he squeezed Lovino one last time. “It came back! Oh, Lovi, isn’t this great?”

“Yeah, now you can stop with that shitty German.”

Feliciano pouted and smacked his arm. “Lovino,” he warned.

“I know, I know. Just go.”

With a laugh, Feliciano finished his coffee and bounded back into his bedroom, dressed and brushed his teeth in record time, and called out a “See you later, Lovi!” on his way out.

Sure, his heart was pounding with each step toward Ludwig’s apartment, but it was finally a good pound. The whole way there, he ran scenarios in his head and they were all positive, because nothing could stop him from making things right again.

Even his hands were sweating slightly when he knocked on Ludwig’s door. But once the door opened he froze.

An unfamiliar man stood in the doorway in a loose t-shirt, with pale, bed-head hair and sharp eyes.

Those eyes widened and he grinned on sight of him. “You must be Feliciano!” he said. “Come in, come in.”

Feliciano’s heart was hammering again. “Are you… Gilbert?”

He laughed. “Has Lud told you about me then? I feel so honored. Would you like a beer?”

“Um, no thanks.” Feliciano fidgeted from where he sat on the couch. “Is Ludwig here?”

A light switched on in Gilbert’s eyes and he laughed again. “Of course you’re here to see Luddy. What am I doing? Poor thing’s exhausted. He’s been in bed all morning. Want me to get him?”

“Well, if he’s sleeping…”

“Nonsense!” Gilbert exclaimed. “It’s pretty important anyway, right?”

Gilbert practically stomped down the short hall and pounded a fist on Ludwig’s door. “Hey, Lud, wake up! You’ve got a visitor.”

The door swung open and Ludwig said, “Gilbert, do you mind?” Then, he saw Feliciano.

Feliciano tried a bright smile, but feared that it looked rather nervous.

Ludwig cleared his throat. “Feliciano, you’re here.”

He was sure the corners of his lips were twitching. “Hi, Ludwig.”

Ludwig shot a glare at Gilbert, until he finally said, “Oh! You want me gone. Gotcha. I’ll just… go down to a café. Practice my Italian.” Gilbert snickered while throwing on a jacket and shoes. He winked before closing the front door behind him, and then they were alone.

Ludwig pushed a hand through his hair, but it flopped back over his forehead. Feliciano thought it was adorable. He’d never seen Ludwig like this, with his hair down and dressed so casually in a t-shirt and sleep pants. It was starkly different from the well-composed, put-together Ludwig he knew.

When he sat down next to him, all the words he thought to say poured out of his mouth.

“Ludwig, I want to apologize for last night. I guess I assumed a lot of things, and I never even talked to you about them before I–”

“Feliciano,” Ludwig interrupted, grabbing his hand. “You did nothing wrong. I’m the one who needs to apologize. I can be a little… dense sometimes, I know. But there’s something I need to tell you.”

Feliciano swallowed, glancing down at their hands. His heart raced. “Yes?”

“I do like you. I like you a lot, actually. I guess I just didn’t know how to handle it, so I kept denying it. And then when you finally kissed me, I realized I really did like you. But I reacted too late, and you thought you’d done wrong. I’m terribly sorry, and I could probably never make it up to you.”

Feliciano was grinning now. He squeezed Ludwig’s hand and kept himself from throwing his arms around his neck. “Ludwig, you’ve already made it up to me by saying that. It makes me so happy, and so relieved!”

Sometimes, Feliciano cursed his inability to think before acting. His excitement overwhelmed him so much that he pushed himself forward, threw his arms around Ludwig’s neck, and kissed him again. And then he felt cold realization shoot down his spine and he jumped away.

“I did it again,” he worried, seeing Ludwig’s shocked face. “I’m so sorry–”

Ludwig stopped him by kissing him a second time, his hand at the back of his neck and his lips wholly more earnest. It was everything Feliciano had wanted. He smiled against Ludwig’s lips and laughed. Even Ludwig chuckled.

“Feliciano, I have to be at the university in a little while, but what do you say we go out tonight?”

Feliciano thought he might be grinning forever.

 

Feliciano spent the day making preparations to return to the restaurant, looking over paperwork and catching up with the bar manager who’d been filling in for him. He was ecstatic to find that his Italian seemed to be back to stay, and his German was still fully functioning too.

In the late afternoon, Lovino was cleaning up all his belongings from Feliciano’s apartment, preparing to go back to his, when there was a knock at the door.

Lovino answered, and there stood Ludwig, dressed and groomed immaculately as ever. Feliciano watched from the side as Lovino laid eyes on him and glared.

“Hello, Lovino,” Ludwig said.

“Hello,” Lovino replied, arms crossed over his chest.

“May I come in?”

Lovino wordlessly moved aside. Ludwig met Feliciano’s gaze, and they smiled at one another.

“Alright. What do you want?”

“Lovi,” Feliciano chastised.

Ludwig ignored Lovino’s brashness. “I want to apologize to you, Lovino. I didn’t realize how much I’d also hurt you, and I assumed things I shouldn’t have. I know where I stand with Feliciano now, and I hope you can forgive me.”

Feliciano watched, amused, as Lovino struggled to find anything to pin on Ludwig. Finally, he sighed and rolled his eyes.

“Apology accepted.”

Feliciano grinned and came over to Ludwig’s side. “Thank you, Lovi.”

Lovino looked everywhere but the two of them. He never was good at the touchy-feely.

“Are you ready?” Ludwig asked him.

Feliciano nodded, weaving his fingers with Ludwig’s. Outside in the hallway, Feliciano reached up and pressed a kiss to Ludwig’s cheek. “That went well,” he said.

“Thank God.”

Feliciano laughed and hugged his arm. They entered the elevator and Feliciano beamed proudly at him. “Now, tell me about your day.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ah, denial~
> 
> JEEZ, I am sorry it took so long to get this out. School had me in a stranglehold, but I'm on spring break now so the last chapter (which is more like an epilogue) will be out in the next day or two.  
> Thank you for reading and supporting!


	4. Epilogue

_Three months later_

 

            Unlike Feliciano, Ludwig didn’t have to work one bit. He allowed himself the full week to catch up on reading. He felt a little bad for Feliciano; their trip up to Munich was a work obligation for him rather than a relaxing holiday.

            He hadn’t even needed to pay for anything; the hotel and travel expenses were paid for by Feliciano’s grandfather.

            Ludwig never usually took the time, or gave himself time, to sit and do nothing. However, the summer breeze was calming and the sounds of the city below his balcony were a pleasant background drone. He checked his watch. Feliciano would return soon, so Ludwig resumed reading his book, a cold beer next to him.

            The sun hung lower in the sky when Ludwig heard the door to their suite open. He kept reading, knowing Feliciano would start recounting the day before it closed. He glanced up when he was met with silence. His ears only picked up the brushing sound of feet on the carpet.

            Feliciano trudged out onto the balcony and landed in his lap before he could notice anything amiss, but that in itself was explanation enough.

            Feliciano dropped a heavy head onto Ludwig’s shoulder, nestling himself into his chest.

            “Hi, Feliciano.”

            “Hi,” he mumbled tiredly.

            “How was the meeting?”

            “Good, but so tiring.”

            Ludwig figured as much. He smiled.

            “They said they’ll partner with us though. The contract signing is in two days.”

            “That’s great.”

            “Mmm,” was Feliciano’s agreement.

            “Looks like we’ll have something to celebrate tonight at dinner.”

            “Dinner,” Feliciano repeated sleepily. “I need a siesta first. Just an hour.”

            “Go ahead, there’s time.”

            Feliciano made a sound of contentment and nuzzled further into Ludwig’s side. Ludwig situated his arm around him so that he could resume holding his book. His leg was probably going to fall asleep and he really should have moved to the bed, but Ludwig didn’t have the heart to disturb him. Feliciano was asleep in minutes, breathing steady, warm puffs on his neck.

            Ludwig pressed his lips to auburn hair that gleamed in the sun and continued reading.

 

            “Grandpa will be so happy,” Feliciano said, his hand in Ludwig’s. “He’s been wanting to expand, and now he has the chance.”

            Ludwig had listened to Feliciano chatter all throughout dinner about his day, about the space they would purchase within the week for Vargas’s third location in Munich. They’d signed with German partners who would run the Munich restaurant and Feliciano’s grandfather was making plans to fly up to oversee the development.

            He and Feliciano decided to walk off the wine after their dinner, the sun low and fading golden.

            “It’s all thanks to you,” Ludwig told him.

            “Not entirely,” Feliciano replied, modesty tinting his cheeks.

            Ludwig smiled. “If you hadn’t become fluent in German, you wouldn’t have offered to expedite the process by representing him, and he wouldn’t have gone through with the idea.”

            Feliciano smiled, eyes still lowered to the pavement. Despite the incredible good fortune of Feliciano gaining back his Italian relatively quickly, and the abrupt series of events that led to them getting together, Feliciano was still oddly hesitant in talking about the accident that made him fluent in German. Ludwig asked him about his hesitancy once, and Feliciano only said that it was the accident itself – his memory of it and a brief period of time before the car crash were still lost – and the events immediately following his coma that unsettled him.

            Ludwig supposed that was fair enough. Feliciano wasn’t otherwise affected by what happened, and he often joked about the misadventure that was the night and morning of their first kisses.

            “I suppose you’re right,” Feliciano breathed. “It’s just so exhausting, all this legal talk.”

            Ludwig laughed, squeezing Feliciano’s hand. Feliciano leaned up and pecked his cheek.

            In their hotel suite Feliciano kicked off his shoes and disappeared into the bathroom. Ludwig, satisfied from dinner and the walk, sat at the edge of the bed, running a hand through his hair. He sighed and lay back, closing his eyes.

            He didn’t hear Feliciano approach, but suddenly his knees were dipping into the mattress on either side of Ludwig’s waist, and when he opened his eyes Feliciano was smiling at him nose-to-nose.

            “I have a surprise for you,” he said, snatching kisses every other second.

            Feliciano’s zeal signaled to Ludwig that this surprise was something significant. He pushed himself up to a seated position, and came face-to-face with a grinning Feliciano in his lap.

            “Close your eyes.”

            Ludwig thought it was silly, but indulging Feliciano was often too irresistible.

            He heard the sound of paper rustling and when Feliciano told him to open his eyes he was hiding his grin behind two plane tickets.

            A word caught Ludwig’s eye on the slips and he took one in his hands. They were tickets to Berlin.

            “Feliciano…”

            “They’re for the end of the week. I figured we’re already in Germany, and you mentioned that you hadn’t been back in Berlin in a long time. It’d be nice to see Gilbert again. And you could show me your city.”

            Ludwig was speechless. He wasn’t expecting this type of surprise. It was incredibly thoughtful and seeing the tickets made him realize that he may have missed his hometown more than he thought. There was only one thing to do when he couldn’t find the words to thank Feliciano properly.

            Ludwig set the tickets down and threaded his fingers in Feliciano’s hair, kissing him earnestly. Feliciano giggled against his lips, pressing himself closer.

            “Does Gilbert know?” Ludwig finally pulled away long enough to ask.

            “Yes, I planned it with him.”

            Ludwig was surprised he hadn’t gotten any teasing hints from Gilbert – it was practically his favorite pastime.

            Ludwig laughed. “You’re going to love Berlin.”

            Feliciano grinned and tackled him to the bed.

 

            They only got to spend two days in Berlin, but Ludwig had been glad to see his brother again, be in his hometown if for a little while. Feliciano and Gilbert were like the best of friends and hindsight had Ludwig wondering how good of an idea that was, considering the combined power of their teasing abilities.

            Gilbert took them out to dinner and the next day they spent doing some touristy things for Feliciano.

            Feliciano apologized that they couldn’t spend more time in Berlin, but Ludwig assured him that there was still time before university classes started up again.

            They boarded an early flight the next morning and landed in Rome before mid-morning. Took a cab back to Feliciano’s apartment.

            After flipping through his mail and making the rounds through his apartment, Feliciano said, “Ludwig, let’s go see Lovino. We can all go to brunch and I can fill him in on the restaurant.”

            Ludwig didn’t bother to tell him that Lovino was probably still asleep. His own stomach was grumbling.

            A short cab ride later and Feliciano was turning the key in Lovino’s door. He was prone to letting himself in Lovino’s place, and to be fair Lovino did the same, just not as often.

            They found Lovino standing at the kitchen counter, coffee mug in his hand, wearing nothing but boxers.

            “Lovi, good morning!” Feliciano said brightly.

            Ludwig didn’t know if it was the relatively early hour, the sudden appearance after their week-long trip, or Lovino’s general annoyance with Feliciano’s habits, but Lovino looked startled to see them, to say the least. Ludwig would almost call the look that sprang into his eyes “panicked.”

            “Feli? What are you doing here?” he asked hastily, in a hushed tone.

            “We just got back a couple hours ago. Do you want to go to brunch? I have news on the restaurant–”

            He was interrupted by a _thump_ coming from Lovino’s bedroom. Three heads swung in its direction, Feliciano’s puzzled, Lovino’s certainly panicked.

            “Lovi, is someone–”

            Ludwig belatedly put a hand on his shoulder to get him to stop talking, but then a tall figure wandered in from the hall. He was similarly dressed in only boxers. He was deeply tanned and he sleepily yawned, ruffling curly brown bed-hair.

            “Lovi, why did you leave?” he said.

            Ludwig watched the scene unfold like a comedy. Feliciano’s eyebrows shot up, his hand slapping over his mouth. Lovino’s cheeks burned red and he unsuccessfully attempted to push Feliciano out of his apartment.

            The man noticed them and flashed a dimpled grin. He practically bounced over to Feliciano and Lovino.

            Feliciano grinned just as brightly, and Ludwig knew that Lovino was really in for it now.

            “Feli! What a surprise to see you this morning!” he said.

            “I could say the same with you!” Feliciano responded just as enthusiastically.

            “You know him?” Ludwig asked.

            Feliciano nodded. “This is Antonio, our new bar manager. He’s been with us a month now, yes?” he directed toward the man.

            Antonio nodded proudly. “Lovi told me you were in Munich.”

            “We were, we just got back.”

            “Feliciano,” Lovino interrupted loudly. “You said brunch, right? Just let me get dressed.”

            Lovino headed back to his bedroom, pushing Antonio in front of him by the shoulders.

            “Brunch?” Antonio asked. “I love brunch.”

            Feliciano laughed. “Then of course you’re invited, Antonio!”

            Antonio said, “Great!” at the same time Lovino barked, “No!”

            Lovino grumbled all the way to the bedroom.

            Now, Feliciano was rarely what one would call “devious,” but Ludwig glanced down at him and barely suppressed a smile.

            He could tell, right away, that Feliciano was going to have fun with this one.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aaaaaaand done :) 
> 
> Thanks for reading, everyone! Much love!
> 
> Pop by my Hetalia tumblr: le-petit-fromage


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